


Forelsket

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [31]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Neck Kissing, POV Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Loki makes a surprising discovery about you, and then uses it to his full advantage.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 10
Kudos: 283





	Forelsket

**Author's Note:**

> _Forelsket_ is supposedly a Norwegian word meaning roughly "the euphoria you feel when you begin to fall in love". I was looking for possible titles and came across one of the many lists of untranslatable words online and I like this one.

He discovered it by accident.

You were lying in bed together, drifting in that odd, hazy realm between wakefulness and sleep. He was, as always, holding you to his chest, his arm wrapped around your midsection. He liked holding you like this. He got to touch you. He could feel every inch of your body along every inch of his own, and something about that pleased him. Or comforted him. When he held you like this, he knew exactly where you were, and he knew that you were safe. He could bury his nose in your hair and breathe in the sweet smell of you, could move his hand to caress your belly. What was it about you that made him feel like he couldn’t get enough of you? How had this small mortal utterly bewitched him?

In any case, he knew that you liked lying here like this too. You always wriggled against him, pressed yourself even more firmly against his body like perhaps you were trying to climb inside him. It made him laugh. Sometimes—all too often, in fact—you would grind your bottom against him until his body responded appropriately. And it always did. Sometimes he would dig his fingers into your side until you were squirming with laughter. Sometimes he would take hold of your hip and press himself more firmly against you, so you could feel just what you did to him. It wasn’t much of a punishment, he knew, because you always seemed to enjoy it, but it offered a bit of relief from the ache that you brought to the surface. 

Tonight, you had exhausted yourselves together. When he felt you moving against him, he knew that you were mostly doing it in your sleep. Maddening little thing, trying to rile him up when you were barely even conscious. He wasn’t sure you could take another round with him tonight, but he also didn’t want to rouse you by tickling you, so he just tightened his grip around your waist and kissed your neck. He felt a shiver travel all the way through your body, and then a delicate sigh, almost like a whimper, escaped your kiss-swollen lips.

Oh.

 _Very_ nice.

He took a moment to metaphorically kick himself for not noticing that response sooner. He loved your neck. He often closed his lips around your pulse point in the middle of...things, relishing the way your heartbeat thrummed just below the surface. He had a tendency of sinking his teeth into the tender flesh here, just on the edge of too hard, so that you would whimper beneath him before giving in. Your throat was so soft, so vulnerable. You needed it to breathe, to speak, to function, and yet you had no qualms about letting him do with it as he pleased. You trusted him, and that fact was like a drug for him, sometimes. 

Had he truly never _kissed_ your neck before? 

Eyes wide in the darkness, Loki lowered his mouth to try it again. The feeling of your warm skin against his lips was familiar, but he couldn’t quite tell whether that was because he had, in fact, kissed your neck before or simply because his mouth had been on pretty much every other inch of your skin. He scattered a trail of kisses along your neck, moving up to the spot just behind your earlobe. As expected, you shivered again and pressed yourself against him as though seeking shelter from his attention. You murmured something, some sweet nonsense in a plaintive tone that told him you were pleading with him to stop. He grinned against you and filed this discovery away for later use.

He awoke to an empty bed, and sighed. You were often the first one awake, and this was a common occurrence. Sometimes he woke up before you got out of bed, and he could almost always persuade you to stay with him a little longer. Sometimes when he woke up alone, he could hear the peppy voice of some fitness instructor coming from your computer in the living room. He liked those mornings, as it meant he could sneak in a bit of leering before you realized he was watching. Today, he heard quiet noises coming from the kitchen. He rolled out of bed and went to join you.

You were dressed rather comfortably, which made happiness surge within him. You didn’t dress like that if you intended to spend the day working—and therefore ignoring him in favor of your computer. You pushed one of your too-long sleeves up to your elbow, which drew his attention to the fact that you were wearing _his_ shirt. The way his heart thudded against his breastbone might have been embarrassing, if anyone else could have heard it.

He crept closer, moving silently across the linoleum floor, and slipped his arms around you from behind. You flinched, of course, and then gave a self-conscious laugh and gently smacked one of his hands before finally relaxing against him. “You should wear a bell! You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

He held you tighter and pressed his face to your neck. You were so warm, so soft. The scent of your skin mingled with his scent from his shirt, and it was a heady perfume. Did you know what you did to him? Surely not. Surely, if you did, you would be a blushing, stuttery mess more often. He smiled at the thought. “Your heart is safe with me, my love.” He kept his voice low, almost purring, the way he knew you liked it. Then he rubbed his nose against that same spot there behind your ear and kissed your neck.

Just like the night before, he felt you shiver. This time when you sighed, there was the slightest trace of nervous laughter, and you reached up to tug gently on his hair. “Careful now,” you warned. But you didn’t try to get away from him. He let himself growl against you, and then kissed you again. You did laugh this time, and pulled a little harder on his hair. “Loki, I’m trying to make you breakfast.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you ticklish?” He kept his voice very innocent. 

“You _know_ I am.” You laughed. He loved that sound. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips to your neck again, though this time he tempered his kisses with soft little nips. When you sighed again, he did not miss that delicious hungry _edge_ that slipped into the sound. “Are you not hungry, then?”

He felt himself chuckle even as he reached forward to turn off the burner. As he did, you turned around in his arms so you could look at him. Your eyes were dark. It thrilled him a little. He let his lips curl back into a sly smile and held your face in his hands. “I am _ravenous_ , precious thing.” 

You were wearing his clothes and he had just discovered a brand-new way to make you whimper. Breakfast could wait. 

And it did.


End file.
